Carrion Flower
by hopefully a lesser evil
Summary: Escaping from his imprisonment at Hogwarts, Sirius Black remembers an old safehouse from the first war. In it, he discovers and awakens an undead Lily Potter, and the two of them set out to put their (un)life back together.


**The Half-Remembered Safehouse**

Sirius and Buckbeak descended through the fog and rain into a tiny clearing in the middle of a patch of forest, and landed in the spring grass. Sirius dismounted, steadying himself against the beast. He was nearly exhausted after fleeing Hogwarts, and then searching the Scottish coast for the right island, but at the break of dawn, he'd found it.

"Sorry, Beaky, the rest of the way's on foot," he said after a moment. "Can you wait around until I get back?"

Buckbeak snorted and stomped his foot.

"Thanks, I think."

He walked through the forest, down a half-remembered path. There was a safehouse here, he was certain. He'd never been inside, but he helped James and Lily put up the security charms shortly after Harry was born, just in case they were attacked at Godric's Hollow. It hadn't worked out for them, but maybe he use it to hide from the Ministry for a short while – at least long enough to bathe and have a proper meal.

He came to a fork in the road. The safehouse was down the left path, except, to get there, you had to turn right, all the way around. And that was merely the first illusion. A second path required him to to walk backward to advance, and another you had to circle back on five times before you could pass.

Finally, he reached the end of the path, and upon something that the Marauders invented in while they were in school: an illusory drop. He and Peter thought it was brilliant, but both James and Remus thought it was too cruel to use as a prank. As a security measure, it was ingenious. What appeared to be a hundred foot drop onto jagged rocks, was really just a short step down onto some round pebbles in a shallow puddle. It seemed real, though, and that's what mattered.

He took that one awful step into the illusory void, and there he was. Hidden in a knot of distorted space that could only be reached by following that specific path through the forest, was the safehouse door.

Had it always been stone?

Had it always been intricately carved in geometric patterns that looked like they might be part of a spell? …and was that a skull?

Well, Lily did have a flair for the macabre now and then. He pulled the door open and stepped inside, following the staircase down into a short, cobweb-filled hallway with a door on each side and another at the far end.

The door on the left opened into a small apartment with a kitchenette and attached pantry. The tap on the sink didn't work, and after a cursory look around, he decided to see if he could find a wand before trying to cook anything.

Across the hall was a bathroom with a claw-footed tub and equally dry taps.

Last was the door at the end of the hall. Like the outside door, it was made of carved stone, carved in complex geometric patterns, time with an iron inlay, and a decidedly deathly theme.

The door handle was a skeletal hand made of wrought iron, which unlatched when grasped. Was this really Lily's idea or influenced by some arcane knowledge left by one of James's Peverell ancestors?

A wave of chill air hit him as he pulled open the door. Inside was a circular room that he would have expected in a locked room in the basement of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place or a forgotten alcove in the prison fortress of Azkaban, and decidedly not his best friend's safehouse. The air was thick with an overwhelming miasma of dark magic.

He felt something familiar calling from inside, almost pleading for him to _enter._

As he stepped inside, enchanted quartz crystals lit with the cold blue of the lumos charm, revealing walls covered in shelves which sagged under the weight of hundreds of jars of potions ingredients, preserved specimens, and books. Below them sat immaculate worktables, with tools, burners, cauldrons, and glassware, all clean and ready for use.

It seemed utterly sterile – not like the antiseptic of a hospital, but as if Sirius was the only living that had ever been there.

He found himself drawn to a raised, circular platform in the centre of the room. It was about seven feet across, and covered in a white sheet. Above it, suspended by steel cables and various hoses was a metal apparatus consisting of numerous brass pipes and valves, surrounded by dozens of mechanical arms holding various lamps, mirrors, and hand-like clamps.

With a shaky hand he pulled the sheet back to reveal a dry basin with a dessicated, emaciated body in the bottom. It was completely hairless and near-skeletal, but the facial structure looked like…

Looked like… like… _like the valve above her head needed to be released._

He felt a ghostly hand join his as he reached for the valve and turned. A single, glittering drop of fluid fell from a dropper onto the corpse's head.

… like Lily – a starved, dessicated, and very dead Lily. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked down at her – it couldn't be her – but…

Sirius broke down and cried. For Remus, believing for years that he was betrayed and alone. For Peter, the true betrayer, for failing to notice his turning to the Dark Lord, and for James and Lily. "I failed you all. I couldn't even…"

Icy arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. "Lily?" Sirius' voice broke. They squeezed tighter, and he felt the strength drain from his body.


End file.
